


Wildflowers

by jenniferwalters



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: BIG spoilers throughout, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Slow Burn, slight AU, so play the game first or dont give a fuck as you read, um rating will probably change as i upload but for now its okay <3
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:07:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26947957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jenniferwalters/pseuds/jenniferwalters
Summary: After the Van der Linde gang rob Leviticus Cornwall in the Grizzlies, they become bound to him for the remainder of the century. Destinies become intertwined, and Arthur gets closer to the Cornwall fortune more than anyone else. [Previously named As I Am]
Relationships: Arthur Morgan/OC, Arthur Morgan/Original Female Character
Kudos: 3





	1. Chapter 1

Train wheels rattled against the railway as it passed against the Grizzlies, returning from a trip to New York. Moonlight spilled through the windows, illuminating the carriages for brief moments before hiding behind the mountains. Unevenness in the tracks jostled crumpled papers and left behind belongings, small moments of sound that seemed to echo in the silence of the night. 

The train carriage was hushed, the few passengers either asleep or reading a day’s old newspaper in their laps. The second component of the serial  _ Heart of Darkness  _ was being perused by a woman travelling home, her male companion resting against the rattling train window. She shifted in uncomfort, her dress having been worn for a day as she sat in the dull train carriage. Her companion was as boring as anyone else, not much to say unless it were to please her father.

A cracking sound went off in the distance, and it seemed the woman was the only one who had noticed. Her head perked up, and the train began to slow, coming to a stop not too long after. A guard of the train hurried down the aisle, and the woman turned in her seat, her ears picking up the conversation.

“Someone’s taken over the train,” The first guard spoke.

“What you mean?”

“We can’t move - we’re stuck here.” No other passenger seemed interested - some waking momentarily to see if they had missed their stop, but returning to their slumber when no station was in sight.

The woman glanced at her partner, and seeing him not turn at all, stood and sauntered over to the two men, who were deliberating.

“What’s going on?”

“Nuthin’ that concerns you, My Lady,” The second guard spoke, turning to face her front on.

“ _ Everything _ on this train concerns me, you harecop. Tell me what’s going on with those hijackers!” The guards looked bewildered, the first one finally stammering out something.

“Some-someone’s gone and stopped the train. Don’t know what for.”

“And no one’s thought to get help?” The two men looked at each other, then the woman, then each other again. 

“Go!”

They scurried off, rather spooked, the woman watching them head back to the front of the train. The woman turned again and headed for the last carriage, praying that they were not being robbed by criminals.

Pushing open the heavy door to her father’s personal carriage, she let out a sigh of relief. Nothing was out of place. Not much was truly in the carriage, but the woman’s personal effects were sitting in plain sight, a few of her father’s state bonds in a safe on the far wall of the carriage.

Footsteps echoed behind her, and the woman turned quickly, only to make eye contact with three guards hurrying toward her.

“Are you alright, Miss Cornwall?” The one in front asked, the other two closing the door and arming themselves.

“I’m fine. What is going on?” Some shots rang out in the distance, muffled by the train carriage.

“We think some outlaws have stopped the train to steal from us. But you’ll be safe in here, Ma’am.” She shook at the thought. Outlaws? She knew there were some gangs left over from the Wild West days, hoping to savour the ‘freedom’ they had before civilisation came in. But surely none had made it all the way down south.

She could hear voices mumbling outside of the carriage, husky men talking amongst themselves.

“What are you boys plannin’ on doin’ in there?!” One voice called out, barely intelligible through the metal walls of the carriage. The woman was pushed behind the three guards, two of them taking defensive stances facing the door.

“Listen to me - we don’t wanna kill any of ya...I give you my word, but trust me - we will.” The first guard had approached the door on the other end of the carriage, ready to respond to the thieves.

“I work for Leviticus Cornwall!” He called out, somewhat hesitant to make a move. He kept his rifle low, pointed at the floor.

“Come on, boys!” The outlaw leader - Miss Cornwall could only assume - responded, his voice almost cracking against the cold night air.

“We got our orders!”

“Okay. You asked for it.” The outlaw began counting down from five. A shiver ran up Miss Cornwall’s spine, an impending doom filling her thoughts.

“We ain’t openin’ this door!”

“Three, two, one!” Silence from both parties. The woman began to push past the other two guards, but they held her back.

“Get off me!” Miss Cornwall fought against the guards, who couldn’t put up much of a fight. She shook them off, making a move towards the outward door of the carriage. If her father’s pathetic guards weren’t going to defend her honour, then she would have to do it herself.

Bullets ricocheted off the reinforced metal on the outside of the train, causing Miss Cornwall to jump in fright, her hands rushing up to protect her head. They barely made a dent in the inside walls, but the sound was unlike anything she’d heard before.

“We ain’t comin’ out! You got no way in here!” She cowered back in the corner as the first guard spoke again, her hands on her chest in an attempt to calm her beating heart.

“That’s enough!” Some more mumbling outside, words she couldn’t make out. She had never felt fear like this before - her life felt like it hung in the balance, that she wasn’t sure she’d make it out unscathed.

The silence was almost deafening. Until the blow from the door splitting in two caused her ears to ring.

“Alright, come on - just walk on out here.” The three men immediately surrendered, one attempting to pull Miss Cornwall from her position at the far corner of the carriage.

“No! I’m not going!” She shook him off roughly, and the men abandoned her in the carriage. Pathetic.

“We don’t wanna kill you. We just wanna rob your boss.” The leader of the criminals spoke to the guards, and she watched them disappear into the cold night. She made a move to rifle through her father’s desk, finding a Cattleman’s revolver in the top right drawer. She pointed it at the hole, waiting for the men to enter.

A blonde-haired man with a bandana across the bottom of his face hopped on the carriage first, seeming giddy at the fact a woman was inside.

“Wee hoo! Boys, we got ourselves the jackpot! Why don’t you put that little gun down, girly. It’s much too big for you.” Two men followed, one dark skinned and another white.

“You stay the  _ fuck  _ away from me!” The woman threatened, flicking the safety off with her thumb, pointing it at the three men. They stopped in their tracks, the first one chuckling to himself.

“Woah, okay, okay. Ma’am, you’re against three of us. You ain’t that quick of a shot,” the third man scoffed in a Southern accent, the other two seeming to not be even the slightest bit affected by her.

“I’ll grab her, you guys get the safe.” The first man offered, beginning to walk towards her, Miss Cornwall focussing the gun on him for a moment, switching to the Southern cowboy.

“No - you get the safe. I’ll take care of it.”

“Don’t you come near me.” The man began to approach her, hands up in defence, maintaining eye contact with her.

“S’alright, ma’am. We ain’t gonna hurt ya. Just gonna borrow some things, alright?” A bullet flew from the barrel of her revolver, imbedding the back wall near the blonde creep’s head.

“What the hell you tryna pull, woman?” He asked, but was pulled back to the safe. She was just as shocked at that as anyone else in the room.

“You are  _ not _ taking my things!” 

“What the hell’s goin’ on in there, Arthur?” The guttural voice from outside called, and the white man approaching the woman yelled back in response.

“Nothin’ we can’t handle!” A rage boiled inside of her, and she moved the barrel of the gun to point at the man’s chest.

But he had already closed the distance, and ripped the gun from her iron grip, clicking the safety back on and putting the gun in the waistband of his pants.

“You stay back, and nothin’ll happen to ya.” He spoke in a low voice, the husk overtaking his tone and making him almost unintelligible. She raised a hand to slap him, her palm making contact with his cheek.

His eyes widened in surprise, and he rubbed his cheek with a gloved hand. The dark skinned man called out that he had found the state bonds, and her heart sank into her stomach. Ungrateful thieves. The man turned without another word, hurrying out the train with the others. The woman followed after them, screaming ‘til her throat dried up.

“You horrible little men! I’ll get my father onto you, and you’ll be damn sorry!” They laughed as they rode away on their horses, celebrating their haul.

She had never felt so powerless in her life - three men taking what they wanted, going through her father’s things, messing up his life’s work. And for what? A few measly dollars? She sat on the floor of the carriage, her expression blank. The three guards hopped back on the train, staring out of the hole in the side of the carriage.

“How dare you come back in here -” she began, standing up with a finger pointed sharply at them.

“We won’t tell a soul, we swear!” One of them blubbered, hands up in defence. A few moments later, the train chugged to life, slowly moving in its original direction. Miss Cornwall let out a breath she wasn’t aware she was holding in, and left the pathetic guards to themselves, heading back to her seat in the next carriage. 

She wouldn’t forget the eyes of the men who took her father’s belongings. Especially the bright green eyes of the third man, and the way they bore through her like she was nothing to him. But she would make them pay.


	2. Chapter 2

The train stopped in Saint Denis, the whistle blowing to signify its arrival. Remaining passengers had alighted, still somewhat shaken up about what had happened. The gunshots, the yelling, the dynamite exploding the last carriage. They met up with family and friends, or hurried straight to The Bastille across the street. A stagecoach waited on the other side of the station, the clerk smoking a cigarette as he kicked at loose cobblestones.

Miss Cornwall and her companion hurried to the stagecoach first, requesting a ride.

“Cornwall Estate, good sir.” Her companion requested, and the man nodded, helping place the suitcases into the carriage, then climbing onto his seat at the front of it. Miss Cornwall was helped into the carriage, sitting down heavily in the seat. She exhaled, removing her hat from her dark locs. Her companion sat beside her, and the carriage jolted to a start, the horses clopping along the street towards her home.

“I apologise, again, Miss Cornwall, for not defending you or your father last night.”

“Don’t apologise to me, fool. It’s my father you must cry to.” She lit a cigarette between her pink lips, exhaling the smoke as a calming shiver ran down her spine.

“Those despicable men. The world is no longer savage, Henri. It is civilised, and for the better of us all. Men like that should be hanged,” Miss Cornwall ranted, relieved to be at home in a city. She rarely ventured out of Saint Denis, visiting only comparable places that would accommodate her status. She had never even travelled to Rhodes, or to the homes of her ‘contemporaries’ - the Grays and Braithwaites. Their petty feud was uninteresting to Miss Cornwall. They were pathetic - grovelling at each other. And for what? An old wives tale? Please.

By the time her cigarette was at its end, the stagecoach arrived at the Cornwall Estate on the other end of town. Henri and the clerk carried the bags to the gate, adorned with a cursive C in the middle. They exchanged payment as Miss Cornwall exited, breathing in the humid air. Much better than the Grizzlies.

The stagecoach departed, and the two passengers walked into the grounds, the door opening to reveal a dark skinned woman.

“Ah, Madame Cornwall, a pleasure to have you back. Was your trip comfortable?” Her Belgian accent echoed in the courtyard, a smile cracking through her lips.

“No, Leo. We were robbed by outlaws,” Miss Cornwall spat, walking past the woman and into the home. It was as clean and organised as when she had left the week before.

“Run me a bath, Henri. I need to clean this muck off my skin.” Henry nodded, taking the bags up the staircase and disappearing into a room, only to come out moments later and enter another room, the sound of water running soon after.

“O Lord, are you alright, Madame?” Leo’s face crumpled with anxiety, her hands clasped at her chest.

“No, I’m not. They stole my father’s bonds, and some cash, and God knows what else!”

“It will be okay, Madame. We will get you cleaned up and Henri will explain what happened. There is nothing to worry for.” Miss Cornwall only shook her head, taking the steps one at a time, leaving Leo by herself downstairs. 

The hot bath water steamed the scent of roses, lavender, ginseng, and chamomile, filling the room with a calming aura that left Miss Cornwall to herself. The thought of the robbery the night before had escaped her mind, thinking now only of the sounds of her city and the smells of her home. She sunk her head back into the water, letting it seep into her dark waves, framing her face with clouded water.

“Miss Cornwall? Your supper is waiting for you downstairs.” Henri had knocked and called from outside the door, pulling her from her serenity.

“Thank you, Henri. I’ll be there shortly.”

Dressed in her evening wear, she descended the stairs and turned to her left to enter the dining room. A single plate was placed at the side of the table closest to her, a small banquet of carved meats, cheeses, breads, and fruits laid on silver platters.

“You may sup with me, Henri. Leon too, if she desires.” Miss Cornwall took her place at the table, beginning to serve herself with minimal amounts of food.

Henri and Leon sat across from Miss Cornwall, enjoying their meals and light conversation flowing around the table.

“Thank you for allowing us to dine with you, tonight, Miss Cornwall.”

“It was my pleasure. Let the kitchen eat what is left, you know I don’t like leftovers.” She lit a cigarette and bid her leave, heading upstairs to her bedroom.

Sitting on a chaise, a magazine laid next to her, Miss Cornwall admired the view of the city lights as she relaxed with a cigarette. Tapping the build up of ashes into a golden ashtray, she enjoyed the feeling of warmth that encapsulated her body as she inhaled the smoke, exhaling and revelling in the headspin. A trumpeter played a jazzy song in the distance, faint in the air of the city. She loved Saint Denis - she felt blessed to have a home in the city. What with her father’s monopoly on oil, transport - it was the hub of her family business. He was rarely around, though. Staying up North in New York was more his ilk. He travelled frequently, hoping to expand his empire and take over the whole country. And he always said he never wanted his daughter around when he was conducting business. And she agreed - it was not woman’s work to be a businessman. She must stay home and continue her family’s name. But only with someone worthy enough. But no one was worthy for her name, at least not south.

Opening her cigarette box, she pulled out one of the collector’s cards - Maud Engel. A coloured woman in the Gems of Beauty card set. Miss Cornwall grimaced, tossing the card to the floor behind her, not caring where it ended up. She put out the rest of her cigarette into the ashtray, and moved to her bed to rest for the evening. She had not realised how exhausted she actually was, until her head touched her silken pillow.

✫

The next morning, Miss Cornwall awoke much later than usual - she would typically catch the end of the sunrise, golden light piercing her open window and bathing her room in warmth. But the tribulations from two nights ago had left her weary, and her body felt the need to stay in sleep. She freshened herself up, running a herb-water bath with parsley, rosemary, and peppermint. 

Her hairdresser, Josephine, had entered after Miss Cornwall admitted her entry, styling her hair in a braided bun at the back of her head, hot-combed curls cascading from the nape of her neck and towards her breasts. Despite already waking with curled hair washed the night before, they were not as pristine as what a hot comb could achieve. A face toner made from boiled rose petals was spritzed over Miss Cornwall’s face, a thick cold cream applied after to keep her skin supple.

Donning a white gown with lime green accents and bows down the middle, Miss Cornwall was entranced to take her daily stroll of the city, keeping away from the slums the poor people were subject to. With Henri on her arm, the two strolled through the park across from their home, chatting in French, Henri’s mother tongue. Leon was at the estate, preparing for an afternoon of reading French literature and analysis of paintings from the last century, while the kitchen servants cooked a simple high tea for luncheon. A typical day in Miss Cornwall’s life consisted of this, and she could not ask for more.

“Madame Cornwall, your father will be joining us for dinner this evening,” Leon announced upon Miss Cornwall’s return from her walk.

“Oh, Lord.”

“He heard about what happened in the Grizzlies, and he wanted to come home early.” Miss Cornwall only nodded, retiring to her room, as her appetite had grown non-existent. She was worried about what her father would say - how he would react. He had some time to cool down, but he was known for his temper and diligence. She only prayed he wouldn’t blame her for what happened.

Dinner consisted of freshly hunted venison, steamed root vegetables, and a cabernet merlot. Leviticus Cornwall sat at the head of the table, no words spoken since his arrival in Saint Denis only an hour before. He ate like a king - plate piled high with meat, less vegetables, the juices glistening on his lips and falling into his well-kept beard. He seemed angry - but he always was.

“Verity, what did those men look like?” He finally inquired, rubbing his napkin down his mouth and chin, dropping it on the table beside his plate.

“I only saw three of them. Two whites, one coloured. One of them was Southern, maybe from New Austin.” Verity went into depth about their voices, and any distinguishing features she could remember. When she finished, her father sighed.

“Well, if they attacked in the Grizzlies, their camp can’t have been too far from that.” Verity could see the gears turning in his head as he sipped from his wine glass. He stood up not long after without another word or glance towards his daughter. She sat in silence, waiting for the door to his office to close, before heading upstairs herself, a full glass of wine in her hand.

The trumpeter was not playing that evening, the sounds of trolley carts being the only music in the city. Verity felt somewhat of a longing to be out at night - finding the trumpeter and dancing to his songs, going to The Bastille to find contemporaries, to walk through the park in the cool night air, or visit the theatre for a more mature show. But she was glad to have a place in society, to have a home of opulence. For a glass of wine in her hand, and a cigarette in the other. But being inside, with no one to talk to except housemaids and butlers, you would want for something, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope i can make these a bit longer later, but for now they will have to do (:

**Author's Note:**

> probably my most ambitious fic yet  
> anyway we all love mr morgan <3


End file.
